


I Believe The Children Are Our Future

by masquerade97



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform, Human!Castiel - Freeform, M/M, Post Season 15, all your faves are alive, sam winchester/eileen leahy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28994067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masquerade97/pseuds/masquerade97
Summary: Jesse Turner spent the last eleven years on the run, believing he was being hunted by both angels and demons for the use of his powers. He did his best to live a normal life, to lay low. To avoid the apocalypse.Perhaps the plan worked too well.
Relationships: Jack Kline/Jesse Turner
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	I Believe The Children Are Our Future

They say you can’t go home again. 

Jesse wasn’t sure where he’d heard that expression, but he’d believed it for a long time. Over the years, he’d tried. He really had. But every time, he remembered all too well why he’d left, and the fear of what might happen drove him back out. 

He remembered his encounter with Sam and Dean well, and his brief interaction with Castiel had made itself quite at home in his nightmares over the years. He’d left to protect himself, and to protect his family. Because they were his family, no matter what the demon - his father, he shuddered to remember - had told him. 

He was afraid, all those years away. He'd managed - as well as he could. He worked on controlling his powers, now that he knew they were there. For the most part, they were fairly easy to control; usually he could use them like a third arm, stretching and flexing and bending the world to his will. It was only when he lost control of his emotions that his powers ran away from him, responding to some will Jesse couldn't seem to force into obeying. Thankfully, as he learned how his powers worked, he had fewer problems in that area.

The years passed slowly. Most days Jesse woke and checked his surroundings for any sign of demon activity, any sign at all. It didn't matter that he usually woke to find nothing unusual - any sign that something was amiss meant that Jesse was packed and out before anything could find him.

So it all happened that Jesse wasn’t sure when he’d decided to go home. He wasn’t even sure he _had_ decided. All he knew was that he was standing in front of his home in Alliance, Nebraska, a duffel bag with the meager possessions he wanted with him all the time in his hand, hoping his parents still lived there after eleven years.

The house had been repainted, the walkway to the front door repaved, and a garden stubbornly bloomed along the front porch. Almost without a thought Jesse restored the flowers and cleared the weeds. He thought he was probably stalling. 

There was still a screen door over the house’s front door. He opened it and hesitated. There was a truck in front of the garage, so someone must be home. He wasn’t sure he wanted to knock and find out who it was. 

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried about making the decision; the door opened abruptly and Jesse found himself face-to-face with his adopted mother. Her face had more wrinkles, her hair was more grey, but she looked much as she had before he'd left. Jesse wanted to say something, but he found his words caught in his throat. And it only took a moment for recognition to flash across his mother’s face.

“Jesse?” she asked in a quiet voice. There were tears in her eyes, and she seemed as much at a loss of what to do as Jesse felt. 

“It’s me,” he managed. He tried for a smile, but that felt too light for having been away for so many years. 

“You’re alive,” his mother said, wrapping him in a crushing hug. “We were so worried about you.”

“I’m sorry I left.”

“You’re home now. That’s all that matters.” 

Jesse returned her hug, but he had a sinking feeling. He didn’t think he should stay, but he knew he couldn’t just show up and then leave immediately. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” he said. 

His mother pulled back, held him at arm’s length to inspect him for damage. “What do you-“

“What’s the hold up?” came a deep voice behind her. 

Jesse looked up as his mother stepped aside and saw his father. He’d always thought his father was a big man, and the realization that he was tall enough to look his father in the eye came as more of a shock than he expected. “Dad,” he said with the same sheepish smile he’d offered his mother. 

“Jesse?” his father asked. He closed the space between them quickly and wrapped Jesse in a hug. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”

Jesse wasn’t sure what to make of the tears he’d seen on his father’s face, so he elected to leave it be for now. 

When his father let him go, Jesse was ushered into the house and to the den. It was laid out how Jesse remembered, but he sat in an unfamiliar armchair while his mother was on the phone canceling whatever plans they’d been on their way to. He held his bag on his lap as a kind of barrier. 

“Where did you go?”

“Why did you leave?”

“Were you hurt? Did anyone hurt you?”

“You were just gone-“

Jesse shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see his parents again, so of all the conversations he’d ever rehearsed in his head, this was perhaps the only one he hadn’t gotten around to. And he couldn’t very well tell his parents he was the child of a demon. He might have been away for a while, but that seemed like the kind of thing that would upset them. 

So half of a truth and some improv seemed his best course of action. 

“I know I’m adopted,” he said abruptly, cutting off the barrage of questions and fussing.

Predictably, his parents both froze. They looked at each other, and then back at him. 

“We should have told you sooner,” his mother said. She was kneeling beside his chair and squeezed his arm apologetically. “We didn’t want you to think we loved you any less.”

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” Jesse said. He’d figured as much when he got older and actually thought about it. “But I figured it out, and I guess I thought I’d try to find my birth parents.”

“Where did you go?” his father asked. “We called the police, and they couldn’t find any sign of you. Anywhere in town or in the state.”

“I don’t remember,” Jesse said, shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t want to be put on the spot like this. “It was eleven years ago.”

“You don’t have to tell us,” his mother said. She seemed to think he was hiding something. She was using the same tone of voice she had when Jesse was little and he’d had a bad dream or been frightened by a thunderstorm - it was a tone that said he was safe. “You don’t have to tell us anything.”

“It wasn’t anything,” Jesse said, frustrated. He felt his powers push on his parents and didn’t feel the need to stop it. At least now they looked like they believed him. “It was eleven years ago. I don’t remember.”

“We’re just so glad you’re home,” his father said, kneeling beside the chair and hugging him again. 

“Why don’t we go out to dinner?” his mother asked. “Your favorite restaurant is still there.”

Jesse smiled, relieved they’d dropped the subject of his absence. “I’d like that.”

* * *

Over the next few days, Jesse settled back into life at home. The local paper ran a story about his homecoming, and while Jesse tried to keep things as vague as possible, there were several theories floating around about where he had been. He just shrugged when anyone asked him to confirm or deny a story they had heard. 

Several things had changed around town, but certain things were the same. His friends who were still in town recognized him and didn’t bother to ask about where he’d been. It was awkward at first, and they were all grown at this point, but he was pleased to find that he still got on well with some of them.

He’d been back for about two weeks when there was a knock at the door. 

He was home alone, trying to decide if he should stay in town or cut his losses and leave when he heard it. He was so distracted by his own thought process that when he opened the door he didn’t realize who was standing on the doorstep until he spoke. 

“Jesse Turner?”

Jesse startled back to reality and glared at the men at his door. 

“What do you want?”

Sam and Dean Winchester looked at each other as if they hadn’t quite been expecting such a harsh tone. 

“Can we come in?” Sam asked. 

“No.”

“How ‘bout talk? We can talk right?” Dean asked. 

“No.”

Sam opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. He drew back in surprise and put a hand on his throat as if he could find the cause of his lack of speech there. He gave Jesse a very funny look. 

“The last time we spoke, you told me my existence put my family in danger,” Jesse said coldly.

Dean tried to say something, but in finding his voice missing he touched his nose, like Jesse had just guessed correctly in a game of charades. 

Jesse eyed them warily. Part of him wanted to just send them away, but he had a feeling they would just come back. Or contact him some other way. “Fine, we can talk.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, before Dean could chime in with whatever quip was on the tip of his tongue. He tried to step forward, but found his foot wouldn’t cross the threshold. “What-“

“I said we could talk,” Jesse said. “I didn’t say you could come in.”

“The demons know where you are,” Dean cut in without further preamble. At Jesse’s surprised look, he rolled his eyes. “Newspaper runs an article with your name and picture and you think no one’s gonna catch on?”

Jesse forced his temper down. And he'd _known_ that article would be a bad idea. So many years without a demon sighting, in addition to his mother's insistence, had made him soft. “So I guess that means I have to leave again.” He knew he shouldn’t have come back. 

“That’s probably your safest option,” Sam said. 

“Well thanks for letting me know?” What was their deal anyway? Show up and tell him to leave? He started to close the door.

“But you can come with us, if you want,” Sam added before the door had moved too much. He ignored the look Dean gave him. “If you need somewhere to go for the time being.”

“Why would I do that?”

“We live in a demon-proof bunker, for starters.”

“Do you want a medal?” Jesse asked. He debated conjuring one for them, and tamped down the impulse before one appeared of its own volition. Instead he just watched them. He couldn’t say for sure, but he thought that they hadn’t planned on the afternoon going this way.

“Look,” Sam finally said, spreading his hands in front of himself, “we can’t guarantee anything, but the demons know where you are, and if you come with us we can keep you safe until you make a decision on what you want to do. I don’t know if you remember, but we _did_ offer to help you before you left last time.”

Jesse considered it. He _had_ just been thinking that maybe he should be getting out of town, but that didn’t mean he was eager to do it. And with these chuckleheads? He did remember them offering to help him, but mostly he remembered that even they were afraid of him. All he’d learned from their visit was that he was dangerous. That was why he’d left in the first place.

“I’ll think about it.” Jesse stepped back to close the door again, but Dean put his hand out in time to stop it.

“It would really be best if you made a decision now,” Dean said. 

Jesse raised a brow curiously. He wondered if Dean remembered how powerful he was. Hell, he wasn’t even sure _he_ knew how powerful he was anymore. “It would really be best if you came back tomorrow morning after my parents leave for work,” he said, pressing on them hard.

As if a switch had been flipped, the brothers turned and walked back to the curb and their waiting car without another word. They glared at Jesse before getting in, and Jesse just smiled pleasantly at them and waved as the car’s engine roared to life. 

The rest of the afternoon passed with Jesse lying in bed, trying to come up with an excuse not to go with the Winchesters. When he concentrated, he could feel his power influencing them even now, telling them to stay away. But the truth was, going with them seemed like a pretty good idea, at least for the time being. As much as he didn’t want it to be. If he was hanging out with hunters, there wouldn’t be a need to watch his back to make sure he was keeping everyone safe. A demon-proof bunker even sounded fun to test out. Would a demon-proof bunker keep _him_ out, he wondered? He was half demon after all. He wasn’t even sure he had an actual soul.

And sure, that could be fun to test, but then how was he going to tell his parents? He had never liked erasing memories; it was easy enough to do, but he didn’t have enough practice with it to make sure that he didn’t accidentally wipe something important. Besides, with so many people who knew he was back, he knew he definitely didn’t have the finesse to pull it off. There’d be the memories of everyone in town, the newspaper article and the memories of anyone who’d read it, and plain word of mouth that had spread to who-knew-where. No, he’d need a real excuse.

He was pulled from his musings when he heard the front door open and close.

“Jesse? Are you home?”

Jesse sighed and went downstairs to face his mother. “Yeah, I’m home.”

“The neighbors said they saw a black car stop out front today.”

“I saw it,” Jesse said. “Just a couple of guys who needed directions. It was fine.”

His mother laughed. “I guess they didn’t have any service here?”

Jesse shrugged. “Guess not.”

His mother studied him for a moment, her face falling to something more serious. “Are you okay?”

Jesse almost flinched. “Yeah. I don’t look okay?”

“You seem distracted.”

 _Think fast_ . “You, uh, remember when I got back? I said I didn’t know how long I’d be able to stay?” Now _there_ was something useful he’d said. “I got the, uh, news I was waiting for.” He tried to put on a smile but it fell flat somewhere. 

“You’ve been back less than a month and you already have to leave?” she asked. She seemed disappointed, but at least didn’t seem to have any pushback on this one.

“It’s a job,” Jesse added hopefully.

Now at least she sounded like she believed him. “What kind of job?”

 _Shit_. What was even believable? “It’s… I don’t know how to describe it. And I don’t know if I’m allowed to talk about it anyway.”

“You can’t say _anything_ about it? What company is it with?”

Jesse thought he might throw up. He grasped for anything, and his brain settled on something he remembered from when Sam and Dean had shown up eleven years ago. It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “The FBI.” _Shit_.

His mother gave him a skeptical look. “The FBI?”

“Yeah.” Jesse did his best to look like he meant it, and made sure to keep his powers in check. He didn’t like lying, but he liked the thought of forcing the lie less.

She studied him for a moment before her expression changed to one of bemusement. “Alright, you don’t have to tell me what it is,” she said. She crossed the room to him and brushed the hair from his eyes. “But before you start, _especially_ at the FBI,” she added, only a little sarcastically, “you need a haircut.”

Jesse smiled a little, feeling the tension start to drain away. “Yes ma’am.”

His mother patted his hair as if that would make it stay, and headed down the hall toward her room.

Jesse took the few moments he had before she returned to get himself a drink of water. Lying was thirsty work, and his mind couldn’t stop racing. So she didn’t believe him (not that he could blame her; he certainly wouldn’t believe him either), but she also didn’t seem like she was going to make a stink about him leaving, which was the most important part.

“So when do you have to leave?”

“Um,” Jesse said intelligently. He squirmed for a moment, placed his cup on the counter. “Tomorrow?”

His mother stared at him blankly. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Jesse had to look away first, squirming under his mother’s gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner,” he added, hoping she wouldn’t be angry. He looked up when he felt her hand on his cheek, and found her smiling warmly at him, if a little sadly.

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “I’m sure you have your reasons. And you’ve been through a lot. Just promise me you won’t stay away so long this time.”

“I promise,” Jesse said, tentatively returning her smile. “I’ll call you every week.”

“Then as soon as your father gets home, we’re going out to celebrate.”

* * *

The next morning, Jesse waited on his front porch for the Winchesters to come get him. He’d managed to convince his parents that they should still go to work and not worry about seeing him off, so he waited alone. _It’s better like this_ , he thought to himself. He knew that if his mother had started crying when he left, he’d never actually leave. Best to do it as he’d done it last time - when his parents were out and would simply find him gone.

When the car pulled up, Jesse watched it stop. _Now or never_. He sighed and stood. He could see the Winchesters watching him warily, and he supposed he couldn’t blame them. 

Steeling himself, Jesse picked up his bag and crossed the lawn to the car. He took his seat without bothering with a greeting.

“You ready to go?” Sam asked.

“I guess,” Jesse replied. He watched the house slide away as the car pulled out. “What happens to everyone when the demons get here and they can’t find me?”

“You don’t have to worry about them,” Dean said. “We have a friend watching the area.”

“You guys have friends?” Jesse shrugged, ignoring the look Sam gave him from the passenger seat. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“I can leave you here,” Dean said, glancing in the rearview.

“You offered.”

“You agreed.”

“Okay,” Sam cut in, “it’s gonna take a while to get there, so let’s try to keep the peace.”

Jesse shook his head, but settled into his seat. He leaned against the door and watched as the town thinned out and gave way to the highway. He wanted to just ride in silence and sulk for a bit, but it only took a few minutes for the questions to start.

“So where did you go?”

Jesse looked toward the front seat. Sam was watching him, and he noticed Dean look at him briefly in the mirror as well. “What?”

“When you disappeared,” Sam said. “We went to check on you and you were just gone.”

“I lived lots of places.”

“Like where?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I have a question,” Dean interrupted. “In all this time, you’ve learned to control your powers, right? So how can demons still find you?”

“They _can’t_ find me. I thought you knew that.”

“I mean why not just…” Dean gestured over the steering wheel, so Jesse assumed he was miming using his powers. “Couldn’t you just… keep them away? Haven’t you tried that?”

“Once,” Jesse said shortly. “They can’t see me, but they can see what I do. That’s how you found me last time, isn’t it?”

The car was quiet for a moment, and Jesse briefly hoped they’d leave him alone.

“How do you still have your powers?” Sam wondered, possibly to himself.

“Was I supposed to grow out of them?”

“Well they started because Lucifer was set free, right?” Sam continued. “But we put him back in his cage.”

Jesse shrugged. “My powers got weaker, not long after I left, but they never went away. Then they got stronger again. Really strong. I thought maybe it was a demon thing.”

“Wait,” Dean said. Even staring at the back of his head, Jesse could tell he was trying to put a timeline together. “How long have they been _really strong_ again?”

“I don’t know. A few years I guess.”

Dean and Sam looked at each other. “That would be…?” Dean asked.

“Around... yeah,” Sam said with a nod. He looked back at Jesse. “And they haven’t waned at all since then?”

“No?” Jesse replied, his brow furrowed. “Are you guys okay?”

“Just. Trying to figure something out.”

“You do that.” Jesse turned back to the window and watched the highway go by. Sam and Dean talked to each other in low voices, but the names and events they mentioned meant nothing to Jesse, so he tuned them out. Instead he tried to think back to his own timeline of how his powers had behaved. From what Sam said, it sounded like his powers had dimmed around the time Lucifer disappeared, which would make sense. And at least he hadn’t lost them entirely - at the time he’d been many thousands of miles from home, and he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

But then what about the incident a few years ago? Sam and Dean seemed to think they knew something about that. Was Lucifer back? Sam made it sound like his powers probably should have weakened again by now, but hadn’t. Jesse shook his head, preferring not to think about the devil and the fact that _that_ was where his powers came from, and that _apparently_ there was reason to believe that the devil had come back. Jesse opted instead to close his eyes and force himself to go to sleep.

He didn’t like to do it - last time, it’d taken him three days to finally wake up again - but he figured if he could spend the next eight hours so deep in sleep that he was dead to the world, he could at least get out of uncomfortable questions about the last decade.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he dreamed. It was one he’d had before, of something hunting him, black eyes just barely coming into focus on the edge of his vision. He felt cold all over, and his power wouldn’t come when he reached for it. He tried to flee, but he felt like he was running in quicksand, his legs moving in slow motion. Some part of him said that it was his birth father, this demon that was hunting him. The demon never said anything, but some part of Jesse knew that if he was caught, he’d be dragged to hell to be put to use, though what that use was was just as vague now as it had been when all this had started. A chill ran down Jesse’s spine, and he whirled around to see those black eyes boring into his own, a wicked grin on the face that held them, talon-like hands reaching toward him- 

Jesse woke spluttering. “What the _hell?_ ” he demanded. He was damp and the water on his face almost - stung? That couldn’t be right. He glared at Sam and Dean anyway. “Is this how you wake up all your guests?”

The brothers looked almost scared, and very glad to be in the front seat. They looked at each other uncertainly before Sam asked, “Are you okay?”

Jesse had the strangest urge to growl at them. “I’m _wet._ And I was _asleep._ ”

“You weren’t- You weren’t responding,” Sam said weakly. “You haven’t moved since this morning. We thought something was wrong.”

Jesse just stared at him. “I was _asleep,_ ” he repeated - though, if he looked past his sudden temper, he would have found himself at least a little grateful to not be asleep anymore.

“You, uh, you sure you’re okay?” Dean asked. He didn’t look as afraid as he had a moment ago, but he didn’t look sure either.

“Why wouldn’t I be, except that my gracious hosts threw - what is this, water? - on me to wake me up.” Jesse considered for a moment, aware again of the uncomfortable sting of the liquid. He held his shirt away from his front to inspect it, and was so alarmed to find steam lifting off the fabric that he momentarily forgot to be pissed. “What _is_ this anyway?”

“Holy water,” Dean said, holding up a silver flask in one hand. “It’s what we had on hand.”

Holy water. Jesse remembered something from the last time he’d seen them, and he set his jaw. Certainly made sense, keeping holy water around when you were dealing with a demon’s son. He willed himself dry. “Right.”

“We didn’t know-”

“Is there a reason you woke me up?” Jesse interrupted. He finally took in the fact that the car appeared to be parked in a garage, several others - seemingly even older than this one, though Jesse certainly wasn’t an expert on the subject - parked in short rows around them. “You dragging me to a car show or something?”

“No,” Sam said with a smirk. “We’re here. At the bunker we told you about.”

He’d slept the whole day then. “So why are we still sitting here?” Jesse asked. He grabbed his bag and moved to open the door.

“Before we go in,” Sam added quickly, holding out a hand to stop Jesse from moving, “there are a few things you should know.”

Jesse didn’t like the sound of that. “Okay.”

“You remember the angel from last time we saw you?”

“Castiel.” Jesse forced himself to stay neutral.

“Yeah. He lives here too.”

“He… here? Isn’t that what heaven is for?” Who’d ever heard of an angel living anywhere?

“It’s complicated,” Dean interjected before Sam could answer.

“Right,” Sam agreed. “Complicated.”

Jesse stomped on his panic. Sam and Dean had talked the angel out of killing him last time, so he probably had nothing to worry about. And he had no idea what had happened in the last ten years, but the fact that the angel was still hanging around at all wasn’t helping keep Jesse’s imagination in check. “Is it an apocalypse thing?”

“Is… what?”

“The reason he’s still here,” Jesse said, annoyed. “Is it an apocalypse thing?”

“No. It isn’t an apocalypse thing.”

Dean sounded sure, but Jesse figured he’d hold on to his doubt anyway, just in case. “Fine. Is that it?”

“We also have two other, guests,” Sam said, and the last word coming out a little stilted.

“Guests.”

“Yeah.”

Jesse studied him for a moment, dread curling somewhere in his gut. “You sure you don’t mean, like, hostages or something?”

“They’re not hostages,” Dean said, rolling his eyes while Sam recoiled at the word.

“If you say so,” Jesse muttered. He shifted uncomfortably, glad for the weight of his bag on his lap. “Can we just get this over with?”

Sam started to say something, but Jesse pushed his door open before he could speak. The brothers were out of the car immediately after him, leading the way to make sure Jesse didn’t wander through the wrong door. 

“Listen, there’s something else,” Sam said. “Who our guests are.”

“What, you running a halfway house for other demon kids or something?”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Or something.” He ignored the annoyed look Sam shot him. “Haven’t found any other demon kids though.”

Jesse bristled. “I’m not a demon.”

“Hey kid, you said it first.”

“Guys-”

But Sam was cut off by the sounds of greetings up ahead. To Jesse’s surprise, the voices all sounded… pleased to see them. 

“We were afraid you’d gotten lost,” a deep voice said. 

Jesse froze, even as Sam and Dean stepped up to the table where three people sat. Jesse’s gaze went straight to the owner of that deep voice, and he felt his anxiety spike; it didn’t matter how many years had passed or how friendly they claimed he was, the first image of Castiel that came to Jesse was of the angel lording over him, silver blade at the ready. 

His power was away from him before he could stop it, and Jesse’s fear cracked, almost audibly, like a whip across the room in Castiel’s direction. And it would have made contact, might have done serious damage, if it hadn’t met an equal force pushing back. As it was, the contact sounded with a _bang_ and the energy that was released popped two of the bulbs in the overhead lights, the air shimmering in its wake.

For half a beat, everyone in the room was too badly startled to even move. A boy about Jesse’s age stared uncertainly back, and a woman seated across from Castiel was on her feet and looked like she meant to come after him, only to be stopped by Sam’s hand on her arm and a slight shake of his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said, his voice small, any of the bravado he’d hoped to carry in abandoning him. For once, it seemed like his power wouldn’t obey him, despite the fact he was reaching for it like a security blanket. He felt like the scared kid he had been, but worse this time. He was sure that if Castiel had wanted him dead when he was just a child, surely he didn’t stand a chance now after he’d just thrown out what probably counted as a provocation. 

“What was that?” Dean finally managed, moving, inexplicably, closer to the angel, as if he meant to protect him. 

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said again. He took a step back. If Dean meant to protect Castiel, Jesse was pretty sure that meant he was on his own here. 

“It’s okay,” Castiel said. He stood from his seat and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He leveled a wary, but not unfriendly, gaze at Jesse. “I’m sure you’re frightened.”

Jesse wasn’t sure how to process that. He’d expected something a little more violent, but now that he had a chance to test the air, he found he didn’t feel any kind of power coming off the angel as he had the last time they’d met. “How- But you’re… you’re not…”

“Not an angel?” Castiel supplied. He smiled slightly, clearly trying to break the tension. “No, not anymore.”

“Then who…?” Jesse looked at the other two. The woman was watching him uncertainly from beside Sam, her dark hair pulled back from her face. She still looked ready to finish a fight if necessary, but she didn’t make an attempt to move from where Sam had stopped her. The other was the boy, still curiously watching Jesse, seemingly unconcerned about Jesse’s ability to try to kill someone on a whim. And to Jesse’s shock, it seemed that this boy was the one who had energy radiating off of him. 

Sam cleared his throat. He freed his hand from the woman’s arm, and she looked over at him while he spoke. “Everyone, this is Jesse Turner. Jesse, you remember Castiel. And this is Eileen Leahy.” Sam’s hands were moving while he spoke, and Jesse distantly registered ASL, and the woman - Eileen - following along. “And in the middle is Jack.”

Jesse somehow remembered his manners. “Nice to meet you,” he said, signing along. He knew a bit of ASL from a friend he’d met a few years before, but he didn’t look to see Eileen’s reaction; his eyes were locked on Jack. “Who _are_ you?”

Alright, so he remembered most of his manners. 

Jack inclined his head, his eyes narrowing uncertainly. “Jack Kline.”

Jesse felt a spark of frustration. “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s who I am.”

For some reason, the simplicity with which Jack delivered his answer grated on Jesse’s nerves. “Then _what_ are you.”

“I’m one of the nephilim.”

“The… what?”

“My father was an angel.”

For a moment, Jesse was sure his brain was misfiring. He glanced over at Castiel, a very confusing conclusion forming in his mind. 

“Oh, Cas isn’t my birth father,” Jack said, following Jesse’s gaze and shaking his head. “Lucifer is my birth father.”

Jesse almost jumped, his head whipping back around to Jack so quickly he was afraid he might give himself whiplash. His voice bordered on shrill when he shouted, “ _What?_ ” 

“Lucifer?” Jack asked mildly, looking back at Jesse with a curious look. “You know who he is, don’t you?”

“I _know_ ! I just- but-” Jesse couldn’t seem to get his tongue to cooperate. He had about a hundred questions he could ask, like _what the hell?_ or _is Lucifer still around?_ or _why is the son of Satan just hanging out with a bunch of hunters and a former angel?_ , but the question he managed to get out was, “Which of us is the antichrist?”

No one seemed to have a response to that for several seconds. Jesse didn’t know what kind of response he’d expected, but he thought if they had ruined his life, they might at least have had the decency of not having lied to him about it. “Well?”

Finally, Castiel opened his mouth to speak. “You both are, in a way.”

The whole thing was so ridiculous, Jesse felt his anger coiling in his chest. “ _Both?_ _I_ was the one you threatened to kill. _I_ had demons come to my house and try to take me away. _I_ was going to be a weapon.” Some distant part of Jesse thought that maybe this wasn’t fair. Maybe this had all happened to Jack too, but Jack seemed so content, had _protected_ Castiel, hadn’t even been mentioned in passing during the incident eleven years ago. 

“We tried-”

“Be _quiet,_ ” Jack ordered, and Sam’s voice disappeared even when he tried to continue his thought. “You told me my parents were in danger. You told me I was a threat to heaven. You _told me_ that I was going to be hunted so that either the angels could kill me or the demons could use me.” He wanted to keep his voice even, but he’d been angry about this for so long, had thought, when he couldn’t sleep, about what he might say if he ever ran into the Winchesters again, had never considered he’d find himself in anything remotely like _this_ situation, that he struggled to stop his words from wavering. He was lucky he managed to keep a hold on his powers. “I was _eleven_.”

For some reason, he watched Jack as he said the last part. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but all he saw was concern - concern, and he could swear Jack looked _baffled_. 

Jack tried to say something, but put a hand to his throat when no sound came out. He swallowed and Jesse felt an almost imperceptible change in air pressure before Jack said, “What happened then?”

What indeed? That seemed to be all Jesse could wonder. “I left.”

“Why?”

“ _Why?_ ”

“Yes.”

Jesse just stared at him. He briefly wondered if he was still asleep and this was just a really weird dream. “I was _eleven_.” When Jack’s face didn’t change, Jesse’s expression hardened. “That’s kind of a lot of pressure to put on an eleven year old,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“Oh,” Jack said, but the furrow in his brow only deepened. 

“Is that... confusing?” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a frame of reference.”

“So, what, you were never a kid?”

Jack shook his head. “I’m only three,” he said matter-of-factly. 

Jesse just stared for a moment. “ _What?_ ”

“Okay,” Dean interjected, his hands up as if in surrender. He was still angled slightly in front of Castiel. “Why don’t we put the claws away for the evening and figure out our timeline tomorrow?”

“No,” Jesse said forcefully. He took a step forward, and everyone in front of him watched him warily. “I have some questions.”

“It’s been a long day,” Sam supplied. 

“I slept all day.”

“Okay, but _we_ didn’t,” Sam continued evenly. “Let’s just cool off for a little while. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Jesse didn’t _want_ to talk about it tomorrow, but he also didn’t like that everyone was staring at him like he might go postal any second. “Fine.”

He ignored their offers of food, despite the fact he hadn’t eaten since that morning. Dean showed him to his room, keeping a close eye on him the whole time. Jesse chose to ignore the look, and didn’t bother asking any of the questions he had, even when Dean asked if he needed anything. 

Jesse just sat on the foot of the bed, his bag sat beside him. He took a survey of the room, with its sparse and utilitarian furnishings. It wasn’t much, and the blank walls made it feel even more closed in than just knowing that the whole space was underground. Jesse usually didn’t have a problem with small spaces, but he suddenly felt very claustrophobic. 

He needed somewhere safe to stay, right? And this place seemed safe enough, terrifying guests and uncomfortably small rooms notwithstanding. Something weird was going on, that was for sure, but Jesse couldn’t quite parse what it was. Something about Castiel just watching him when he’d lashed out, despite the fact that Jesse probably would have killed him, even on accident. Something about Dean trying to _protect_ Castiel, as if Castiel weren’t one of the most terrifying beings Jesse had ever met in his life. Something about Jack’s level and curious expression. Something about Eileen, who Jesse couldn’t quite get a read on, and who had been the only one to try to make a jump at him. It was just all so _bizarre_. It made his skin crawl. 

Jesse briefly thought he should leave. He didn’t entertain the thought for very long, but it was there. He’d just spent _so long_ running that he couldn’t imagine staying. And for how long? He couldn’t stay forever - he knew that - but what was he supposed to be waiting for? A time when he would be ready? And ready for what? He’d never been very good at envisioning a future for himself, but this was a little too much even for him. His whole life had been a series of waiting for something to happen and then running when it did. Or when he thought it did.

But it had been years since anyone or anything had come after him. He’d been so afraid of being found that he’d moved on quickly at what he’d thought might be a sign of pursuit. But nothing had come of it since he was a kid. And apparently Lucifer had been _back_. And still no one had come for him. 

The thought should have been comforting. Lucifer coming back must have been what triggered the sudden change in his powers, which meant Jesse should have been a target again. But nothing had happened. Nothing of consequence anyway. He’d been, essentially, still free to live his life as he saw fit.

But it made him _furious_.

He’d lost sleep and worried and run and hid and for _what?_ To be forgotten? By Lucifer, sure, that was a good thing. The last thing Jesse had ever wanted was for demons to steal him away and try to use him. But to be forgotten by the Winchesters? Jesse didn’t know how he would have reacted to them asking for his help, but they weren’t even worried about him? They had, he grudgingly remembered, offered to help him. He’d been afraid, and so he’d left, but they had offered to help him get control of his powers. Sam, especially, had seemed determined to prove that Jesse didn’t have to just be a weapon at the disposal of those who would hurt him - that he could have some _control_. 

And. Nothing. Even with Lucifer back, Jesse had been forgotten and alone. Not only that, but with how comfortable everyone had seemed together today, with how Jack had casually called Castiel _Cas_ , it was _Jack_ they’d taken in. Much to his surprise, Jesse was _jealous_ ; he’d spent eleven years on his own, afraid that the next day would be the one he’d be found out, and no one had tried to find him. 

Jesse suddenly felt very cold in his room. He grabbed a fresh change of clothes and set out into the hall. The lights were dim - presumably because everyone had gone to bed - but he managed to find the bathroom based on the vague directions Dean had told him earlier. He didn’t know how long he stood under the steaming water, but it was long enough that the chill that had settled over him thawed away, leaving hunger pains in its wake. 

Despite his promise to his mother, Jesse hadn’t let her cut his hair before he’d left. He could have willed it dry, but he let it hang damp in shaggy locks. The water slowly dripping into his collar gave him something to focus on while he went in search of food. 

No one had shown him where the kitchen was, but Jesse was able to find it by retracing his steps to the main room and then following what he remembered of Dean’s brief explanation. 

The kitchen looked like it hadn’t been updated in decades, and Jesse was a little worried he might start a fire if tried to actually cook anything. Thankfully he found enough to make a sandwich, and so didn’t need to risk his life using the stove top. 

He hadn’t checked the time, but he thought it must be around one in the morning. Which was why he jumped halfway across the room when he heard a knock on the door frame.

When he turned to see who it was, he saw Eileen giving him a bemused look. She was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, her hair pulled back from her face. She still looked groggy from sleep. “I saw the light was on,” she said.

Jesse nodded, reoriented himself in the chair he was sitting in so he could see her, and gestured to the chair across from him to indicate she could sit if she wanted.

She thanked him and took her seat, watching him curiously. It made him a little self-conscious to be eating his sandwich with her eyes on him, but he was hungry and she didn’t seem as interested in stabbing him this time, so he ate anyway.

After a few minutes, Eileen tapped her fingers on the table. When Jesse looked up at her, she signed, _Sam told me about you_. 

It had been a while since Jesse had used any ASL, but he thought he remembered enough. _What did he tell you_?

_He told me about the case where they met you._

Jesse nodded. He wondered if that included the part where Castiel had tried to kill him. He figured it probably did. _Anything else?_

_That he was surprised you’d gone home._

That part had surprised Jesse too. _Did he say…_ Jesse wasn’t sure how to ask, and only partly because his vocabulary was failing him. How was he supposed to ask if Sam had mentioned being worried about him? Or mentioned anything about wondering what had happened to him? He decided not to finish the question. _I’m sorry I scared you_.

Eileen’s brow furrowed briefly until her sleep-muddled mind figured out that his last statement wasn’t part of his question. She waved off his concern. _You scared everyone_. 

She didn’t seem bothered, but the statement made Jesse feel worse. He didn’t _want_ to scare people. He just wanted someone to tell him exactly what was going on so he knew what to expect while he was staying at the bunker. There were just too many moving parts, and he wasn’t sure what to make of any of them.

Eileen tapped the table again to get his attention, suddenly looking concerned. _It’s okay. No one’s mad at you_. 

Jesse decided to believe it was all the stress he was under that made his eyes water, but he knew that wasn’t it. He just nodded, and tried to smile at her.

Eileen smiled back, and tried and failed to stifle a yawn. _It’s late,_ she signed after a moment. _You should try to get some sleep_ . She stood from the table and turned to go. _Goodnight._

Jesse sat a while longer before he cleaned up the mess he’d made and wandered back to his room. He still wasn’t sure what time it was, and there were some strange noises in the bunker at night, and with the light off his room felt both incredibly small and incredibly large, but at some point, he did manage to go to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm over here on tumblr if you're curious](http://titlecomingsoon.tumblr.com/)


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